


Desideratum

by ravenna_c_tan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-11
Updated: 2008-08-11
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenna_c_tan/pseuds/ravenna_c_tan
Summary: Headmaster Snape receives an unexpected nighttime visitor. "I am not a fool, and only a fool thinks he is safe when the Dark Lord and his minions are running the world. My wand is never far from my hand. I drew it out from under the pillow in a quick movement even as I discerned my would be assassin had climbed onto the bed. His wand went flying and he cried out as merciless black cords bound him to the bed."





	Desideratum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clauclauclaudia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clauclauclaudia/gifts).



> Written for clauclauclaudia and first appeared in a mini-booklet I made for the Terminus convention in 2008, to hand out at the Snaco meetup. "Desideratum" is Latin for "desired thing."

Desideratum  
by Ravenna C. Tan

At Lucius’ behest I had taught the boy Dark Arts, watched as he gleefully mastered Serpentsortia at a mere twelve years old. The curriculum required that I teach him potions, and he took to the inherently Slytherin subject with ease and grace. His mother required that I risk my life for his, and I did. Dumbledore required that I save the boy’s soul and sear my own, and this too, I did.

I thought it would end there.

I was wrong.

I made my way wearily to my bedchamber at the end of another fruitless day as the nominative headmaster of this benighted school. At least, I thought, the winter holidays were nearly upon us, and there would be a respite from the unending vigilance that it took for me to keep the Carrows from eviscerating the students. If I slept a bit too soundly on falling into my bed, perhaps I can be forgiven.

But I am not a fool, and only a fool thinks he is safe when the Dark Lord and his minions are running the world. A subtle charm alerted me to the presence of someone in the room. Another told me that there was something foreign in the air. Were they attempting to poison me as I slept?

My wand is never far from my hand. I drew it out from under the pillow in a quick movement even as I discerned my would be assassin had climbed onto the bed. His wand went flying and he cried out as merciless black cords bound him to the bed. Then the lights came up and the next hex I was going to pronounce was forestalled as I saw who was squirming half-naked in the bonds.

“Mr. Malfoy, this is an exceedingly poor time for a prank.” I sniffed the air; the scent could only have been a hastily brewed aphrodisiac.

His cheeks were blotchy with fear, an expression I had, sadly, grown used to seeing on his face over the drawn-out summer he had spent in the company of the Dark Lord. I nearly regretted my harsh tone, but the boy needed to be taught a lesson. This kind of foolishness could not be tolerated, not when so much was at stake.

“Please...” he managed to choke out. I loosened the cords around his throat, but had no intention of letting him speak just yet.

“I know you’ve lost standing with the Slytherins because of your father’s disgrace, but really Draco, who put you up to this? I would have thought you’d have more sense.”

He shook his head. “No one put me up to it, sir,” he said, voice shaking. “I... I....”

He seemed in such a panic that he could not go on. I put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, though my words were less than comforting. “The truth, boy, Speak it, or I’ll pull it from your thoughts. And I don’t care what your aunt taught you, you will let me do it.”

“I’m scared.” His eyes were huge and grey and earnest as a young dog’s as he stared into mine. Well, the truth of what he said was irrefutable, but it was still not any kind of explanation. I raised an eyebrow and he went on quickly. “When I go home, back to the Manor... I don’t want...” He broke off suddenly and looked away, a new flush rising on his cheeks.

“Don’t want what?” I insisted.

When he looked back at me, he spoke with great effort, but there was the first hint of bravery I had seen in him since that night upon the Tower. “Don’t want... Rabastan Lestrange to be my first.”

I was neither dense, nor trying to be cruel, when I pressed him further. “Your first what?”

“Lover,” he spat, a hint of fire in his eyes.

If it were not for the potion in the air, I would have likely recoiled from him instinctively. Instead I met heat with heat, anger with anger, pressing my wand to his throat, leaning over him to hiss vitriol at him. “And you thought I would be kinder to you, did you? Brave little pup, you had to dose yourself with Desideratum to get up the nerve to come in here, did you?”

“No, no!” The whites of his eyes showed with alarm. “I spilled it by accident! It... it... it was for you, sir. In case... in case...”

I growled; his inability to finish a sentence would drive me mad. “In case what?”

And again the flare of his anger, his youthful outrage. “In case you n-needed it! B-because you don’t... like me anymore.”

I have been foolish and sometimes even lacking in sensitivity at times in my life, but I needed no special intelligence or perceptiveness to see what was going on there. I pulled my wand away from him then, staring for a moment while I tried to decide what to do with the knowledge I now possessed.

But the potion in the air and the demon in my bed decided for me. “I want it to be you, sir,” he said, voice almost a whisper. “Please. I want... I want to choose one thing for myself in this life. Just one. Please?”

How could I send him back to his dormitory, and in a few days, back to the clutches of the Death Eaters who had turned his home into a house of depravity, with nothing more than a dismissal? I could not. My still-sceptical side wanted to demand an answer to the question of why he had chosen me, but one look into his eyes and I knew I would have all the answer I needed if I merely leaned forward a bit, until my lips could brush his...

He strained upward to press his mouth to mine, to lap hungrily at my lips until my tongue emerged to delve into his greedy mouth. The sounds he made were pleasure and apprehension and need and surrender all at once, and they more than any potion in the air sent blood rushing to my groin. Very well. I would give the boy this boon, since he begged it so eloquently. But I could not allow him to think at any time that he had the upper hand over me. I remembered all too well how incorrigible he had been when he was younger.

A quick motion of my wand and most of the bonds fell away, though not the ones holding his hands. He panted and looked wild-eyed, but what young virgin would not? Another flick and the scant clothing he’d worn to “seduce” me with had been Banished to the laundry. His cock stood slender and ruddy, and I massaged it gently, drawing more lovely sounds from him.

I do not know what he expected, nor why he chose me. What mattered was that he chose me. I had been largely celibate since entering the Dark Lord’s service, my only flirtation with Eros some experiments with whores in the latter years of the time when he had been temporarily vanquished.

I had never lain with a man. What I knew of lovemaking from one wizard to another I knew from studies of anatomy and pornography. It would have to be enough. I knew to Summon something suitable to grease the boy’s innards with, I let the Summoning Charm itself determine what. A jar of some sweet-smelling crème from the bathroom cabinet. I coated my own cock with it first, rearing up on my knees and stroking the jutting curve. His eyes remained fixed upon it, the edge of one lip caught in his teeth.

Then I set about opening him, and I found myself talking softly, as one would to a spooked thestral. “There we are, relax now, yes, that’s it.” Relaxing seemed about the farthest possibility, as he tensed needily when I breached him with one finger. A moan, not of pain, but of desire. A heady sound.

Two fingers was uncomfortably tight, my knuckles mashed together painfully inside him. For a moment I thought there would be no way for me to grant his wish without rending him with my cock. But after a bit of working in and out, he noticeably loosened. It was not long before I was pistoning my arm, three fingers shaped like a small spade, in and out of him. He was straining against the bonds as he arched his body, seeking more. His cock still stood proudly; I figured I would have to do something about that, but not just yet.

“Are you ready for me, Draco?”

He nodded, then looked up and realised I required a more coherent assurance. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Please.”

So be it. My cock, as it turned out, knew perfectly well what to do once I positioned my hips correctly. I slid into him in one smooth motion and Draco cried out. I would like to think it was a cry of ecstasy, as that would have matched what I was experiencing. Lovely smooth heat, my cock sheathed so tightly, so firm... it felt quite at home inside him.

And then, I fucked him. I fucked him until my back began to get stiff, and then I hitched one of his legs up to shift position and I fucked him some more. I fucked him until I was at the brink of orgasm, when I slowed the pace and took some time to examine the beautiful body under mine. I fucked him until I began to wonder if we were both going to be requiring an anti-abrasion potion in the morning.

I had a choice, then, I realised. Let his hands free and allow him to wank while I fucked him, or wank him myself. I kept him in his bonds and took hold of his cock. Now with each thrust into him, I pulled on his flesh, too. I set a brisk pace, wondering which of us would come first.

He did. And his arse seemed to blossom around my cock when he did, rippling and softening still further until I could do nothing but pound into him, deeper and deeper and deeper still.

It should have ended there. I thought that it would.

I was wrong.

I do not recall the actual orgasm. I fell asleep with the boy under me and woke some time later, stiff, with my cock crusted to his belly. He did not seem to mind, kissing at me softly the moment I stirred. I released him from the cords holding him fast and found his arms around me in an instant.

I pressed a kiss to his hair. “Will you be able to protect yourself from Lestrange?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Stay out of his way. Stay with the Dark Lord himself if you must. Do you hear me, Draco? The Dark Lord does not indulge in... such things. You will be safe from ravagement.”

“All right.” He nodded and I felt his hair move against my lips.

“Mine,” I said, against any sense of judgment I might have once had. “My cock is home in your body; do you understand?”

He nodded again. “I chose you.”

“Good. Stay safe.” I nearly said ‘stay pure,’ but that word has far too many meanings for him and for me. “Now go.”

And so I condemned him to the Dark Lord’s presence, to searing his own soul with Cruciatus at the Dark Lord’s behest, to satisfy my own possessiveness. But as I said, I had already lost my soul.


End file.
